


Upon a Golden Star

by ProwlingThunder



Series: Hellfire [2]
Category: Gundam Wing, Pacific Rim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canon GW History, Gen, Kaiju Threat, Post-Waltz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 13:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3898201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProwlingThunder/pseuds/ProwlingThunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quatre was eighteen when Lockjaw climbed free during Christmas. Nearly nineteen when Chiageya climbed out, but not quite.</p><p>But by twenty-one, Quatre's finally done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon a Golden Star

**Author's Note:**

> Set between _Drop in an Ocean_ and _Hellfire_.

It was easy to pretend not to listen to the Russians talking around him. Quatre had perfected the art of being underestimated before the War, and it had served him very well in the time since. He stayed silent as he walked, soaking in the rumors and conversations that circulated about himself and his team, twirling a tablet pen in his fingers as he reviewed the current status of the equipment.

There was a lot of talk about how he and his scientists were going to experiment on the soldiers, which was hardly true and should never have started, considering there was a highly volatile mix for the project; of military and civilians both, with some criminals to spice it up. A little more talk that he and Dorothy were secretly sleeping together, which was not at all true. And a couple hints that the first massive-mobile suit was finally finished for one of the pilots, or several, which was more or less true.

Nobody, it seemed, had heard the real purpose of today's requested gathering. He was a little surprised about that, considering the team had hardly been subtle with the testing scores, but he supposed the purpose behind it was being held as highly classified.

Most likely, none of the Brass had wanted to admit it and were waiting for him to, so when it fell through, it landed squarely on Winner Corp. Russia may have been the first to capitulate to his will, but they certainly hadn't wanted to. The Earth Sphere Alliance wanted very badly to believe if they ignored the problem long enough, the issue would go away.

The escort stopped at a door and opened it for him. Quatre walked in without glancing up from the tablet, listening to them file in behind him and then fall into formation with the rest of the assembled soldiers on the left.

They all straightened at once at the sight of him, he noticed, some fifty odd mixed-nation soldiers on their best behavior. The other half of the room were all sitting in fold-out chairs, or leaning against the wall, or just standing there, watching him.

He waited until he was at the far wall before looking up from his work, turning to face the mass. Some were volunteers; others had been ordered here. Some had been given the _option_ : this or the chair.

Quatre had addressed them all many times before. Both as a group and individually, or in smaller clusters. He hadn't done most of the science work himself, but he had been integral to it. And he had been integral to this, too.

He greeted them all with a smile. A few translator pieces clicked on; not everyone here spoke mutual languages. “Hello everyone. As some of you may know, my name is Quatre Winner; I am the creator of the Jaeger project. This project was started with the intention of creating an elite fighting force strictly to combat the kaiju coming out of the Rift.” The Earth Alliance wanted to call it the Pan-Pacific Defense Force, but this was Quatre's baby, not theirs. They were providing manpower strictly to keep the population happy, slipping funding into the coffers, but the whole affair belonged to Winner Corp. He'd call it what he liked.

He didn't really feel like reminding them that the oceans were inter-connected, and there was precisely no reason to think the kaiju would stay in the Pacific. All studies suggested that there were very real chances they wouldn't.

They could name something else.

“This job has been falling to the Preventers and a variety of freelancers for the past four years, and the project has been alive for nearly that long. I am pleased to admit that in that time we have not been idle; in the aftermath of Chiageya, we began to hunt for capable pilots and develop a rapid response system. We worked primarily on upgrades for the mobile suits, on clean up options and support, medical care and recovery. We gathered up the best and brightest of the scientific community to study our adversaries, and more: To develop a system which would allow us to react quicker to these threats.”

A savage response in a world that didn't want what it needed. “And we gathered you. Those of you who stand in this room today have not only survived the arduous trials and tribulations of the project, but done so so extraordinarily that you have been selected to use the next arch of weapons technology in the fight against this alien threat.” He motioned to one the Maguanacs and the man nodded, pressing a panel on the wall.

The barrier fell away to reveal a wide and expansive catwalk.

Quatre had been lucky to be able to find an old Russian military base for the job. He had had contractors in here for over a year, repairing and converting what he needed. The mobile suit hangers, in particular.

“If you will follow me, I would like to introduce each of you to your very own Jaeger and mechanic teams.”

There were sixty. Too few for each individual, but just enough for all the Drift-compatable teams he and Zero had gathered. 

Hopefully sixty was too many. But he and Zero had each calculated the odds of a quick and neat end to this war, and more Drift teams were being looked for and trained even as they walked here today.

The projected odds of human victory were so insignificant, Quatre had drank to forget the number.

Quatre could dream.


End file.
